Conundrum
by RobynElizabeth
Summary: "I was just wondering why you were staring so intently out of a window, coated in condensation." she smirked slightly. Bollocks. Just when she was proving to be seemingly, spectacularly unobservant, she had to go and notice his mistake.
1. Home Sweet Home Of Sorts

**Disclaimer:Sadly I do not own Tom, Tonks, or any other Harry Potter character that may be mentioned; they are the beautiful creation of JK Rowling. Any character you do not recognise, is probably a not-so-beautiful creation of mine. Enjoy.  
****Reviews are also good....Hint, Hint. ;]**

**Conundrum **

**Chapter One- _Home Sweet Home...Of sorts_**

The glass window of the scarlet carriage was coated with condensation, a product of the warmth within contrasting with the freezing Scottish weather outside. As the carriage swept through the picturesque, if not warm countryside, Tom Riddle wondered about the year ahead of him. He was going back to Hogwarts for his final year, he was going back to a better place than he had come from, and he was going back to his home..of sorts. He said of sorts, because although it was the only place that he had ever felt remotely at ease, it wasn't really a home. A home was where parents were, where a family was, and he, he thought bitterly to himself, had no family. Orphaned from the moment he set foot on this Earth, he had never known what it felt like to have a family. Mrs Cole and that godforsaken muggle orphanage were not a family. Cold and hardened from the abandonment of her husband, that woman had made his life hell from the moment he was under her care. The musty hallways, and rickety framed beds were not a thought he associated with a home, he associated them with pain, distress and the ultimate feeling of exclusion.

The day that Albus Dumbledore explained to him that he was in fact a wizard and he was to go to Hogwarts, and leave Mrs Cole and the orphanage behind, was one of the best moments in his life, not that he would admit it to anyone.

Dumbledore was a mystery to him. From the moment they met, there was a particular quality about him that made him feel..._uneasy_. Every time he was subjected to those piercing blue eyes, he almost felt them trying to probe deeper into him, than Tom would have liked, an uncomfortable feeling spread over him. He knew that his actions when he was a child were wrong, and that they could have been described as bullying, but he felt that he has matured since then, evidently Dumbledore thought differently. Throughout his years at Hogwarts, he had always felt that Albus Dumbledore had kept an especially watchful eye where he was concerned, almost as though he was convinced that Tom was, and would be, completely different to his fellow pupils.

Tom was pulled out of his reverie by the clatter of his carriage door- someone was knocking, and rather too loudly for his taste. Ensuring his face was purged of all emotions, and adjusting his head badge so it was more prominently placed on his chest, he pulled open the door, and glanced at the knocker, disbelieve and annoyance clouding his perfect mask; It was a girl. Mousey- haired, and fairly short, she looked up at him, evidently surprised at his frosty demeanor. Seeing that he wasn't going to speak first, she cleared her throat and said:

"Uh, hello. I was wondering if you had any room in here, I can't seem to find a seat, and I get a little train-sick. And car sick." She added as an after-thought, "and bus sick, well basically any kind of sick that involves travel, wait, travel sick." She looked at him triumphantly. "Yes, that's what I meant. I knew there was a single word for them all; travel sick."

Tom stared at her, bewildered - what the hell was she doing here, firstly, wanting to sit with _him_ and secondly, telling him about her problems with various forms of travel? He clearly was taking too long for this _girl's _liking, because soon she was talking again.

"Eh...Hello?" She asked, waving a hand in front of his face (well really it was his shoulder, as she wasn't nearly tall enough to reach his face). Tom eyed her icily, before replying:

"Yes, there is in fact room, as you so _eloquently_ put it, in this compartment, as no doubt you can see, as I assume that you do have the good sense to check before knocking. Therefore, I presume that you were actually asking, if you would be at liberty to sit here. If that is the case, then I suppose," he eyed her warily before continuing," you may, on the basis that I do not have to suffer your inane, mindless chatter."

Slightly gobsmacked at his answer, the mousy-haired girl nodded, and made to move past him to take a seat. He moved out of her way, and the way of her cumbersome trunk, and watched her as she took the seat opposite him.

He eyed her trunk pointedly. Firstly, because it was plastered with stickers, and had the word "Tonks" scribbled over it in various styles and sizes, an exceptionally childish thing to do, he thought. And secondly because, quite clearly, it should not be sitting on the ground next to her, but should in fact be stowed away in the over head storage. After a few moments, she eventually took his hint, and proceeded to haphazardly try and put the trunk in the netting that was already neatly holding Tom's trunk. After a few minutes of watching her helplessly try and fling the trunk into the netting, Tom decided, with his height advantage, he should put it away for her, but not without throwing a superior glance her way. She flashed an unwilling, grateful smile his way, and then resumed her seat. He mirrored her actions, and then decided that he would look out of the window- he was not one for small talk, and especially not with this _girl._

He turned to face the window, and then remembered the condensation. Damn. He would look like an idiot trying to look out of a steamed up window, and he certainly wasn't going to wipe the wetness away with the sleeve of his sweater. It wasn't in a very good condition to begin with, being orphaned did _not_ pay well, and he wasn't going to worsen it, just because of some silly, childish _girl. Girls. _The opposite sex was not something he had much contact with, nor did he wish too. Not that he should have any trouble in the looks department, at least according to the whispered conversations he occasionally caught moving from class to class. He, seemingly, was not an ugly member of the male sex. He was thought, in some cases, to be quite attractive, apparently some girls like the "tall, dark and handsome type", as thats how he heard himself to be described. They seemed to almost always overlook, the distant, cold bastard side,that he always portrayed to the world, he thought wryly. Nevertheless, _girls, _ were not his forte, and that suited him just fine.

Breaking out of his train of thought, he found himself, rather stupidly, staring, but not seeing, out of the condensation coated glass window- the very thing he had been trying hard to avoid. Damn it. He turned to face the _girl, _and found that she had been studying him, interest present on her face. He felt his pale face heat up; this is definitely not what he had wanted to happen.

"What?" He asked, annoyed. He was irritated in two ways; at himself for doing the very thing he planned to avoid, and at her for having the indecency to stare at him. Of course, he was used to the staring by now; he was always stared at school. However, at least people looked away quickly after he caught them, this _girl_ had the audacity to continue.

"Yes?" She asked innocently. Apparently all thoughts of travel sickness had been dissipated, Tom had provided her a distraction.

"Is there a reason that you happen to be staring at me?" He enquired, ice coating his words. Yes, I know that I am an unusual specimen, you stupid _girl_, but there is really no need for you to continually stare at me, he thought, irritated. It irritated him that this, random _girl_, was managing to cause him so much annoyance in a matter of ten minutes. He wondered how she was managing it.

"I was just wondering why you were staring so intently out of a window, coated in condensation." she smirked slightly.

Bollocks. Just when she was proving to be seemingly, spectacularly unobservant, she had to go and notice his mistake.

Right, well if you are not going to back down, he decided, then that is not my problem. Idiotic _girl. _

"It is actually none of your business as to why I was staring out of the window, but for your information, I was actually deep in thought, not that you would know what thought is, let alone _deep_ thought." There, a tiny hint of a smirk, playing around his lips. That should shut her up, he thought triumphantly.

"Well, well, well." She locked eyes with him. "You've met me all of ten minutes, and already you have judged my intelligence, or lack thereof. Well let me tell you something, Mr... Mr..." she floundered for an insult, but caught sight of the Head Boy badge, prominently displayed on his chest. "Mr Head Boy, I actually am intelligent, and my exam results prove that, so hah." She gave him a smug smile, as if some how, that would settle the matter even further.

Interesting, he thought musingly. She seems more fierce than other girls, not that he knew many. Still, her elusive come back was not so fierce. His smirk became more pronounced.

"Contrary, to popular belief, I actually enjoy the fact that I am Head Boy, so that insult was entirely lost on me. So, "hah" as you articulately put it. "

Her eyes narrowed, but she admitted defeat.

"Touche."

He watched her graceful surrender, and suddenly had the urge to laugh. He wasn't sure where it had come from, but for some strange reason, he really wanted to laugh. Not at this _girl's_ misfortune exactly, but at this _girl's_ clear lack of comebacks, and at her mistake for trying to outsmart _him_. And, what he found even more...unusual, was that his laughter wasn't out of spite, but out of something else...something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He quickly pushed the thought from his mind.

"So.. Mister Head Boy, what am I actually supposed to call you? I mean considering your _enjoyment_ of being Head Boy. Would you like, _Your Majesty_? Or perhaps, _Sire_ is too your taste? No wait, I know, how about; _His Most Honorable, Lordship- Head Boy_?" She asked, almost sneering at him.

He glared at her. Yes, she was _definitely_ a fierce one. He made a mental note to keep an eye on her, before replying:

"Riddle." He answered shortly.

"Riddle?" She enquired. "Riddle what?"

"No, Riddle is my surname." He wondered why he was explaining this inquisitive _girl._

"Okay, so what is your _forename_?" She spoke to him as though he was in some way mentally unsound. Perhaps that is why his tone was so cold.

"Riddle will do _just fine_, _thank you." _ His voice could have turned water into ice.

She jerked back slightly at his reply, so he was right, his voice _could _ have turned water into ice, he thought cooly. She recovered her composure fairly quickly, he noted, and soon she had a calm expression affixed on her face.

"Whoa, calm it Janet. I was only asking." She rolled her eyes, before continuing. "So, _Riddle_. Aren't you going to be a gentleman, and ask about me?"

_No._ He said mentally, why would I care about being a gentleman to you? I've only known you for fifteen god damn minutes, and already you have managed to infuriate me. Still, as always, he remained calm, and rather dully replied:

"Fine. What is your name?" He asked, boredom saturating every word.

"Tonks."

He had thought as much, at least if the graffitied trunk was anything to go by.

"Interesting first name, have you got a surname, or could your parents only be bothered to give you just one name?"

"Actually, Tonks is my last name." He could see her reluctance at giving him her first name, he wondered how bad it was. After a moments thought, he decided that it couldn't be worse than his own.

My first name is...Hey, wait a minute." She paused, clearly remembering their conversation moments earlier. God, he could almost see the metaphorical light bulb being switched on above her head.

"I don't need to tell you, 'cause you never told me." She grinned at her own good fortune.

Yes, he was right, this one really was something, and that something was not very bright, no matter what she said, and no matter how many metaphorical light bulbs he could see lighting above her head.

****

_Finally,_ he thought, as the scarlet train pulled into the station. Finally he could leave the company of _Tonks, _who, incidentally, was the most irritating, immature creature that he ever had the misfortune to meet. Sitting with Tonks for the duration of the train journey, and being forced to listen to her inane chatter, had almost been too much to bear. He had been inches away from pulling out his wand, and casting a silencing charm on her mouth, when the train had mercifully came to a stop. _Thank God. _ He hadn't been too keen on explaining why he, the Head Boy, had been forced to silence a fellow student by means of a silencing charm, just because she couldn't keep her god damned mouth shut for two minutes. No, that would not have been a good idea, and would have almost certainly resulted in his Head Boy-ship being revoked, and _she_ was not worth that, _nothing _was worth that.

Soon after the train had stopped, he and Tonks had alighted the train, and were making their way over to the carriages. The air outside was bitter cold, and he drew his scarf and cloak more tightly around himself. When was safely encased in one, he breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, Tonks was not present, as her short legs, and cumbersome trunk slowed her down some what, leaving Tom free to push ahead, and secure a carriage without her. He most certainly could not have survived another five minutes journey, with her babbling filling his ears.

****

He walked into the entrance hall, and released himself from the security of his cloak and scarf; miraculously, the great castle was warm. The stone walls were successfully managing to evade the harsh exterior chill, currently threatening to invade with every harsh howl of the wind. He soon found himself at his usual seat at the Slytherin table; at the end nearest the table where the professors sat. No one bothered him here, and so he was free to enjoy his solitude, and watch his fellow students and their mannerisms. He also, occasionally heard the odd interesting secret that was being discussed between the professors. Many of them were careless, and often he was in possession of many little details that they would not have wanted him to hear.

From his vantage point, he soon spotted Tonks traipsing in, and she sat herself in between an average looking girl, and quite a handsome looking boy, at the Hufflepuff table. _Interesing..._ So she was a Hufflepuff. Her mannerisms, were genuine, not as he had hoped, just an irritating front.

_Hoped? Why did I just hope that she isn't as irritating as she seems to be?! No. Scratch that, because hoping leads to attachment which leads to...No. No. I did not hope, and I will have nothing to do with her. Nothing._

The headmaster stood up for his usual beginning of term welcome, thankfully interrupting Tom's inner argument with himself. Every student turned their attention to the speaker, including Tom. He jolted slightly in surprise as he registered who was about to speak. The man who had stood to address the students, was not in fact Armando Dippet, but was actually the now silver bearded Albus Dumbledore, his former transfiguration teacher.

_Dumbledore...what? When did he become headmaster..._Then the penny dropped. He wasn't actually in his Hogwarts, he was in the Hogwarts of the future._ His _Hogwarts was long gone, the Hogwarts where he belonged was only a distant memory now. _Hmmm._ _This was going to be...weird. Yes, very weird indeed._


	2. Familiar Quarters

**Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Tom, Tonks, or any other Harry Potter character that may be mentioned; they are the beautiful creation of JK Rowling. Any character you do not recognise, is probably a not-so-beautiful creation of mine. Enjoy. Reviews are also good...Hint, Hint. ;]**

**Authors Note: Sorry that I've not updated for a while, been busy with exams etc. **

**Conundrum**

**Chapter Two- Familiar Quarters**

His feet echoed on the cold hard steps leading down to the dungeons. He was glad to be going to his head boy's quarters, it was familiar territory in an unfamiliar world. He had no idea how Dumbledore had managed to secure him his headship in this future Hogwarts. In his own time Dumbledore hadn't wanted him in a position of power; he wondered what had changed the mind of this older, more eccentric, man.

_He must have some ulterior motive, _he thought, _why else would he take the polar opposite decision of his original view point. _

He was finally at the portrait hole now. He quickly uttered the password- wolfsbane- and continued through the hole behind the portrait that had swung open to admit him. He gave it no other acknowledgement, he had never cared much for making small talk with portraits, they always had an opinion of him, and it was never complimentary.

The head girl was waiting for his entrance, that much was clear. She was an over enthusiastic Gryffindor; plump, pig-tailed with hamster like, rosy coloured cheeks. As soon as he had entered their common room, she was baraging him with greetings and questions;

"Hello, how are you? I'm Laura, Laura Flemming. I'm the new head girl this year, I'm from Gryffindor. What's your name? I've never seen you around school before? Are you new? You must be the first exchange student to come to Hogwarts ever! I'm sure you'll like it here, what a shame it is your last year of school too, we could have been friends for years..."

"Please stop. Just stop." Demanded Tom cooly.

Laura looked slightly hurt, but nevertheless obeyed his wishes.

"Thank you. Now, lets start off as we mean to go on, I dislike inane chatter. So keep that to a minimum, understand?" Tom's eyes found hers, and drilled coldly into them.

Laura nodded, seemingly frightened by Tom's cool demeanor.

"Good. Now, my name is Tom Riddle, I am new to Hogwarts. _Well at least this future Hogwarts. _I was transferred from..._Merlin's beard, what is my cover story? That dark arts school...um...Durmstrang! That's it. _Durmstrang Institute. He smirked inwardly, they would never have accepted a muggle-born like himself.

She fidgeted with a tightly tied pigtail, as he was speaking, obviously unsure how to take this frosty newcomer. She had an odd expression on her face, _yes_ _she seemed bemused by his -quite frankly- hostile behavior,_ but there was something else too. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Her eyes did however, widen at the Durmstrang Institute comment, she had obviously heard of the curriculum there. That seemed to have removed the other emotion that was threatening to show on her face.

_Good._ Was all he could think. _I don't need your pity, or whatever it is that you are trying to hide, Flemming, because I don't need other people, especially not girls._

"I work on a need to know basis, and that is really all you need to know. So if you will excuse me, I think I'll go to bed." He gave her a curt nod, before heading for his room, grateful that he got through the exchange without a slip up.

He felt her petrified gaze on his back as he climbed the stairs; she had never had a reception quite like Tom's before. He allowed himself a smirk- Tom didn't do friends, it was a waste to invest any time in friendship.

Unfortunately for him, Laura, in turn, didn't do enemies, so when she was locked safely away in her, golden and crimson bedroom, she resolved something. She resolved that she and Tom would become friends, because, after all, you can never have too many friends... especially unusually good looking ones.

Seated at the Slytherin table, in his usual place, Tom pondered this new Hogwarts. It looked the same, but was very different. In this Hogwarts, everyone was talking about Bob Geldof, and something about rats - and he was sure they were not talking about potions ingredients. He felt very out of place. Even more out of place than he did at _his_ Hogwarts. At least there he knew what things were. He glared at his scrambled eggs - why had Dumbledore brought him here? What kind of scheme did that eccentric old man have in his head? Whatever it was, he was sure he would not like it, and that Dumbledore would do everything in his power (which was a lot since he was now headmaster) to get him to agree to it.

Tom sighed. Why was everything much more complicated than it ought to be? From the very beginning, it seemed fate had it in for him. Supposedly orphaned from birth - his godforsaken father had never paid him a visit - his life had been one big cycle of disappointments. He thought coming to Hogwarts would change his life for the better, it did lighten it somewhat, but even among his supposed peers he was labeled a freak. A mysterious freak, but freakish nonetheless. If he ever met fate, he would give her what she deserved, a duel with him, so he could make her pay for all the hardships he had to suffer, and the many more that was sure to come his way-

_Right Tom, enough of this wallowing in self-pity. Where is your self-respect? You enjoy your own company, and want to do well in your studies. That is why friends are of no consequence to you, you don't need them. Now stop your idiocy and get to class._

He hated Voldemort. Voldemort was his conscience, the voice inside his head. He supposed that he should be more grateful to the voice, it was a part of him. It's name even came from his own- Tom Marvolo Riddle; I am Lord Voldemort. He tended to leave out the Lord part, it didn't need to be more arrogant than it already was. The voice was always there to give him the good hard kick he needed to get back up, when he had fallen into the depths of self-pity that often threatened to consume him. In fact, Voldemort was always there in the back of his mind, if usually sleeping. He only woke up at times when Tom needed guidance, or some self-motivation.

_Right._ He thought. He gave himself a miniscule shake to clear his head. _Time for class._


	3. Unexpected Encounters

**Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Tom, Tonks, or any other Harry Potter character that may be mentioned; they are the beautiful creation of JK Rowling. Any character you do not recognise, is probably a not-so-beautiful creation of mine. Enjoy. Reviews are also good...Hint, Hint. ;]**

**Conundrum**

**Chapter Three- Unexpected Encounters**

Tom had managed through most of the day without any trouble. Apart from being left without a partner in potions - that suited him just fine, it was Professor Snape that seemed to object, and made a fuss of it - his day went along quite smoothly. That was until the evening. In the evening Tom was studying quietly in the library minding his own business, when he was interrupted by a certain irritating female named Tonks. He heard her before he saw her, babbling away to the Librarian - Madam Letterman - enthusing over a romance novel she had just finished reading. To his disgust, both females seemed equally entranced by the blonde male lead with the perfect physique.

_Typical women. _He thought. _Both fantasizing over the blond hero, in perfect physical shape, and most likely a 'real' man, that is a man whose knuckles drag along the ground. No brains and way too much brawn._

His disgust must have been etched on his face, because the moment Tonks spotted him, she called out : "What's with you Riddle? Eat something that didn't agree with you at dinner?"

"None of your business Tonks, and I'll thank you to lower your volume, as you may notice that we are in fact in a library."

She made her way over to him, taking the seat opposite him at the small wooden table, resting her elbows on his books that were littered across the table.

"Jeeze Riddle, relax. Letterman's a friend."

"Whether _Letterman_ is a friend of yours or not is of no consequence to me, I am here for peace and quiet, so that I can study. So keep it down or I will be forced to ask you to leave."

"You can't make me leave, it isn't your decision." She remarked, barely suppressing a smile.

"My Head Boy badge begs to differ, so keep your mouth shut." he returned to his potions essay, scribbling down words with his quill with more force than was necessary.

"Ooh!" She giggled, thoroughly enjoying his apparent annoyance. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, is it your time of the month or something?" she asked teasingly.

Tom raised his head to give her a superior look, when he stopped short.

Her eyes.

Her eyes were purple. Lilac even. A lilac so pale, that they almost looked grey. Beautiful.

_Her eyes weren't like that before were they? Were they like that on the train, surely I would have noticed..._

"Eh...Riddle?" she waved a hand in front of his face, breaking through his reverie. He shook all thoughts of her beauty out of his head.

"What?" He asked, instantly embarrassed at his previous thoughts.

_Stupid thoughts, Tonks beautiful? I doubt it, she's an irritating, babbling girl. Definitely not to be described as beautiful.._

"I seemed to lose you there for a second Riddle." She questioned, "One minute you were giving me an evil stare, the next I seem to lose you to another planet. What gives?"

_Dammit. She noticed._

"Nothing happened, I just zoned out of our conversation. It usually happens when I find myself talking to someone, without intellect, or much in the way of skill in conversation." He barked at her, louder than was really necessary, especially since he had penalized her for her volume level moments earlier.

Hurt flashed across her face, sadness appeared in her eyes. Then all trace of emotions were gone. Her face hardened.

He got an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I apologise Riddle. I had no idea of the deficiency you seem to think I have in the art of a conversation. I will leave you to your studies in peace."

She left.

He watched her go. Her gait showed no trace of the hurt and confusion she felt, nor did her face. She was used to the hard knocks of life. Still, she had thought she may soon find a friend in the mysterious boy known as Riddle. That conversation however, chased the thought swiftly out of her head.

Watching her leave him gave him a weird feeling. He couldn't quite identify the feeling, although it may have been remorse. Seeing the hurt that his words caused her, strangely seemed to cause him hurt too. He wanted to take back his cold harsh words, to somehow rewind and have her teasing him again. See her smile at him, and look at her eyes again.

That night his thoughts lingered on the girl named Tonks. He wondered long into the night about why she seemed to have such an effect on him.


	4. Green Ink & Meticulous Addresses

**Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Tom, Tonks, or any other Harry Potter character that may be mentioned; they are the beautiful creation of JK Rowling. Any character you do not recognise, is probably a not-so-beautiful creation of mine. Enjoy. Reviews are also good...Hint, Hint. ;]**

**Conundrum**

**Chapter Four - Green Ink & Meticulous Addresses**

Finally it was the first weekend of the Hogwarts term, a day Tom intended to spend alone. No classes meant plenty of time to himself without having to interact with others, the best kind of time in his opinion. He rose early for a Saturday – 8 o'clock was an unnatural hour of the weekend, but nevertheless he showered promptly and dressed in a faded green jumper, slightly faded jeans and a second hand, but well cared for, pair of brown leather shoes. He checked his hair in the mirror, making sure it was neatly parted, fixed his Head Boy badge to his chest, and then headed down to breakfast. Even at the weekend he wanted to ensure that there was no mistaking his position in the Hogwarts hierarchy.

He had surmised, correctly, that the great hall would be virtually empty and sat himself in his usual corner and pulled a plate of bacon towards him. Pilling his plate high with bacon, he moved on to sausages, and continued this ritual until he had a very full plate, even for a growing boy of seventeen. He began to eat, contemplating how he would spend his time alone. He had finished the week's homework on Tuesday night, even with rounds on the Monday night with the irritating Laura Flemming. Monday's rounds had been to his satisfaction, talking was kept to a minimum, and it had continued that way throughout the rest of the week. Flemming had taken his instructions to heart.

_Good._

With no homework assignments to complete, and no rounds at the weekend, he had a completely free day to with what he wished. Unusually this was a daunting outcome for Tom. Not being socially minded, he had no friends to while away the day with.

_Not that he needed friendship; it was just a waste of time, frivolous in his opinion._

He was tempted to spend the whole day locked up in his room, indulging in his own secret hobbies – writing, playing his guitar, and just generally being what his conscience would call a ponce –

**Obviously. What kind of guy are you Riddle? Someone who wants to excel in the magical arts and _succeed_, and most importantly be taken seriously? Or some good for nothing, who is _sensitive_, and uses the creative mediums of music and writing to express his sensitivity! If it's the latter you need a swift kick up the arse! There is no room for ponces in this world – they will never become highly skilled dark wizards, and nor do they deserve that kind of power.**

Tom pondered this for a moment. Clearly, if he wanted to keep up his hard veneer the former would be his desired persona—cold, calculating and most importantly, unavailable for social interaction—perfect in order to leave him to completely focus on his own career goals...

_Right. So no guitar playing then..._

Just then, interrupting what was sure to be a train of thought tinged with disappointment, an owl plopped down in front of him, with a letter attached to its spindly leg. It stuck out its leg importantly, and Tom deftly untied its load. Before it flew off, Tom gave it a hesitant pat on the head. He wasn't keen on owls, but this one was well mannered enough – clearly one of the school owls.

This raised the question; who from the school would send him a letter? He hadn't made any acquaintances, let alone friends, unless you counted Tonks, and he resolutely was not going to. He didn't want to give her any thought whatsoever, the wounded look that had flashed across her face before she left the library troubled him enough when sleep evaded him, never mind during the daylight hours.

_Not that he cared that he had upset her, she was just a nuisance, an irritating nuisance, and this was his perfect opportunity to be rid of her...Friendships were for the weak...those who had time to be frivolous... weren't they?_

He gave his head a small shake, clearing if from all thoughts concerning Tonks. He then acknowledged that the most intelligent course of action would be to just open and read the letter, instead of playing 'Guess the sender'.

On the front of the letter, in green ink, in a neat slanted hand, read the words:

_Mr Tom Riddle  
__Head Boy  
__the Most Secluded Corner of the Slytherin House Table  
__Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Tom took a swift glance around the room in case there was anyone trying to gauge his reaction. It was a meticulously specific address and instantly gave him a feeling of unease. There were several explanations, the most likely being that some kind of idiot prankster wanted to humiliate him. With this thought clouding his mind, he opened the letter:

_Dear Mr Riddle,_

_As you will have guessed, we have much to talk about and it is pertinent that we do so sooner rather than later. Thus, I would like to schedule a meeting with you this evening at eight o'clock sharp in my office. I am sure you will have many questions for me, and as luck would have it, I have many explanations for you. I trust you know where my office is – Professor Dippet's old office, with the gargoyles as guardians. The password is Fawkes._

_Looking forward to seeing you,_

_Professor Dumbledore_

_Of course_ it would be Dumbledore, no one else would be so precise.

The question is, why did it take him so long to decide to reveal the reasons for my presence here, in this future Hogwarts? Tom furrowed his brow in annoyance. He had spent the whole summer without any answers – he had spent many an hour in his room at the Leaky Cauldron pondering the whole experience of his arrival...

_He had been in the Head's common room, of his time, studying when it happened. A flash of emerald fire erupted in the fireplace, and out stepped Albus Dumbledore, looking considerably older than he had been at breakfast, with a strange contraption hanging around his neck._

_Startled, Tom had stood, gaping at the tall figure in front of him. Dumbledore was the first to speak._

_'Good evening Tom, I am terribly sorry about the abruptness of my arrival, but as you will understand in good time, it is important that we make this quick and that you pack your things and return with me at once.'_

_'R...return with you professor?' questioned Tom, too shocked to revert to his usual air of arrogance._

_'Yes, Tom, return with me to the future.' replied Dumbledore, impatience slowly tainting his words. 'Quickly now, it will all be explained shortly.' Without another word, he marched Tom to his room, and together the two of them magicked the entire contents of the Head Boy's room into his worn leather trunk. It all fitted neatly - there wasn't much. Dumbledore shrunk it, gave it to Tom to put into his pocket, and lead the way back into the head's common room. _

_'This Tom,' said Dumbledore, indicating the contraption around his neck, 'is a time turner. This is how we will be returning to the future. If you come and stand next to me and slip it over your neck, I will adjust the dials and we can leave.' _

_'A time turner? Now see here professor, you have given me no explanation whatsoever, and yet expect me to go along with you, to the future? You cannot honestly think that I will accompany you on a journey that I have absolutely no knowledge of, and to the future? No. I will not be leaving here without an explanation, and I cannot say that I would leave even if you give me one.'_

_Dumbledore gave him a hard look, Tom could swear that he saw fire flash briefly in his eyes. _

_'Tom, apparently I haven't made the importance of you to accompany me to the future clear. You have but a moment to make the right choice, if you refuse I will _**_make_**_ the correct choice for you. Well?' questioned Dumbledore threateningly. _

_Tom stood his ground, staring into Dumbledore's hard eyes without a trace of submission. _

_'Yes, I _**_will _**_make the right choice and that would be to stay put in my own time. Thank you Professor, and a good evening to you,' and with that Tom turned on his heel and made for his bedroom._

_'Apologies, Tom' replied Dumbledore, as he raised his wand to aim a non-verbal stunning spell at his back. Tom dropped to the floor where he stood. The next thing he remembered was lying in the hospital wing, with Dumbledore at his bedside, his elbows resting on the comfortable arm chair he had presumably conjured out of thin air, with his fingers in his characteristic steeple._

_Seeing that Tom had awakened, Dumbledore swiftly pulled out his wand, and kept it trained on Tom's chest, as he angrily sat up on the bed._

_'How the HELL could you do that?' barked Tom, quickly searching the sheets for his wand, a futile attempt to be more in control of the situation. 'Stunning, kidnapping me, and bringing me to what you say is the future, all against my will? Give me back my wand, you had absolutely no right to take it, or do any of this. Why did you bring me here?' He moved to get out of the bed to continue his search for his wand, when Dumbledore calmly stood, his wand still aimed at Tom's chest._

_'Do not worry Tom, your wand is safely stowed in my pocket, and will be returned to you as soon as I deem it suitable. Now, if you would please get back into the bed and calm down, all will be revealed.'_

_With an enraged look at Dumbledore, Tom returned into the sheets, recognising that it would be pointless to try and refuse Dumbledore's requests without his wand. Upon his return to the bed, he gave Dumbledore a withering look as if to say, 'Well? I have complied with your demands, why am I here?'_

_Dumbledore also resumed his seat, and fixed Tom with a piercing stare, before beginning his explanation. 'To put it simply Tom, you are here because your presence could in fact help stop the world's most evil wizard, before he begins the worst of his tyranny. You could end the devastation that I myself have experienced, that he causes to the Wizarding World before it even happens.'_

_'You could stop Lord Voldemort.'_

**_Author's Note_: I am so sorry that I have not been writing this story, for a while I was really lost for ideas, and short on time! I have a better plan in place, so I will _hopefully _be writing and updating more regularly. **

**Again, you have my sincerest apologies, I know how I feel when writer's don't update their stories.**

**Oh, and if you have Twitter feel free to follow me robynemclaren I will be tweeting as I write, so you will know when I am close to updating!**


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